


Promises Kept

by queerlyobscure (softestpunk)



Series: An Early Acquaintance [8]
Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Friends to Lovers, Friendship, M/M, Male Friendship, Romantic Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-28
Updated: 2010-08-28
Packaged: 2017-10-11 07:28:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/109936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softestpunk/pseuds/queerlyobscure
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aside from a slightly rocky start, Holmes and Victor get into their summer vacation as they should.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Promises Kept

**Author's Note:**

> PORN, as promised. Porn with a bit of plot tacked on to the beginning. [](http://beeinmybonnet.livejournal.com/profile)[**beeinmybonnet**](http://beeinmybonnet.livejournal.com/) is, as ever, _responsible_ for Victor (for a given value of 'responsible', anyway :P).

Holmes found himself oddly uncomfortable for the first few days in Victor's home. It didn't help that he'd managed to make the man's father faint on the first day. He suspected that was simply not _done_, and had kept his deductions to himself since then, at least in regard to Trevor senior.

On the other hand, the idea of becoming a detective was rather appealing, if a little far-fetched. It was also the most common topic of conversation for either of the two gentlemen. Having lit up in a very enthusiastic fashion after Holmes had noted that he had been thinking about what his father said, Victor had rushed off somewhere and returned with a small stack of books in his arms, before presenting them to Holmes reverently.

"Here. I've read them a thousand times. I knew you reminded me of _someone_, it just didn't click until you did that. Dupin is a bit of a mind reader, too." He smiled kindly while Holmes went over the titles. "The difference being, of course, that you are a real person, and he is only fictional." Victor, when Holmes looked up again, looked truly ecstatic.

"Victor, will you be terribly offended if I ask if your fascination with me has anything at all to with your apparent infatuation with this 'Dupin' character?"

Looking somewhat sheepish, Victor sat down next to Holmes and looked down at his knees. "I know the difference between fantasy and reality, Sherlock," he looked up at his friend sincerely, "it's true that I love you for your mind, but not just what it can _do_. What it is, what _you_ are is far more important and attractive to me than your magic tricks," he smiled softly, "feel free to berate me for calling it a magic trick."

Holmes set down the books with utmost care, and shifted to sit nearer his friend. "Thank you. I _was_ worried that I was playing the part of a childhood fantasy, to be perfectly honest. But only for a very brief moment, before I remembered who I was talking to," he smiled, looked around quickly, and pressed a light kiss to Victor's cheek, "I love you. Even if you do only want me for my mind."

"Ah," Victor began, and then leaned in to whisper, "there is no question that I _also_ want you for your body. I simply haven't had the chance to get at it, yet." He kissed Holmes' ear softly before continuing in a lower voice, "father is leaving for Hampshire tomorrow. It would be best if you slept well tonight."

When Holmes looked at Victor, he was smiling in a truly wicked manner. He felt a light shiver of anticipation run through him and grinned eagerly back. "I suppose I had better go to bed, then." He picked up the books from the floor and held them protectively, "I shall see what you expect of me." He grinned and headed off, "good night, Victor. I'll talk to you in the morning."

 

~oOo~

The next morning began much as it had for the three days previous, and after breakfast (Holmes had never eaten breakfast this many times in a row before, which was disconcerting to say the least), the elder Trevor bid an affectionate goodbye to his son, and set off for a friend's house in Hampshire. It wasn't until after lunch, though, that anticipation got the better of the budding detective, and he sought to find some answers about the activities Victor was apparently saving until nightfall – which Holmes imagined was another facet of his friend's inherent romanticism, because he could see no practical reason for it.

Well aware by now that the household, except for the elder Mr. Trevor, was apparently blind and deaf to anything that may or may not be going on between the young master and his odd guest, Holmes only made a cursory check of their surroundings before settling himself into Victor's lap, knees either side of his hips and bare feet hanging off the side of the sofa, at which the other man was apparently surprised, and, Holmes thought for a second, discomforted. But then he smiled anyway, so everything was probably all right.

"Hello. To what do I owe the pleasure?" Victor settled his hands on Holmes' waist gently, stroking lightly through the thin shirt that was all the clothing anyone would need, given the way the weather had warmed up over the last few days.

Holmes did his best not to look at all nervous, but he'd never been good at lying to Victor. "Well, you're... I'm... about tonight," he finally decided on, "I assume that you intend for us to, uh, _consummate_ our relationship, and I just thought I should ask what _I_ might be expected to do at the time. I am _very_ new at this." He spoke in a rush.

Victor smiled softly. "Would it be better if there was a plan?"

"Yes. It would definitely be better if there was a plan." Holmes nodded eagerly.

"All right. Then here it is. At eight o'clock, a bath will be drawn for you. You will wash, _thoroughly_, and at nine o'clock you will dress and enter my bedroom. After that point, I promise to instruct you whenever you are in need of it. Does that suit?"

Holmes smiled brightly. "I think that will be fine, yes. Are you sure there's nothing else I should do?"

"Just relax, and remember that no matter what happens, I'll still love you. No matter _what_, understood?" Victor was suddenly as serious as Holmes had ever seen him.

"Of course. I'll still love you as well." Holmes replied with equal weight.

"Good. Now, normally I wouldn't ask, but would you mind terribly not sitting on me at the moment? It's a little uncomfortable just now."

Slightly puzzled, Holmes shifted off Victor's lap and sat down next to him, feeling a little lost. "I'm sorry."

"Oh, Sherlock, please don't be sorry. I promise you, any other time you are _welcome_ to sit on any part of me you choose. You'll see why later, and it'll be worth it. Perhaps we should go for a walk?"

"Do we _need_ to go for a walk?" Holmes looked to Victor curiously.

"Well, I don't suppose we need to, but it might serve to calm your nerves – which you don't need to have at all, because there's nothing to be worried about."

Holmes looked at his friend strangely for a moment. "Perhaps I'll go and sit in the library until dinner," he started quietly, "are you going to make me eat dinner?"

Victor considered the question for a moment. "If it will make you feel physically uncomfortable, then no. But I have asked for a light supper at any rate, so you might sit with me and nibble on something, if it wouldn't pain you to do so."

"I have hurt you, somehow, haven't I?"

"No, Sherlock. But I fear I have hurt you by asking you not to sit on me." He paused for a moment before adding cautiously, "I am making this worse, aren't I? By making you wait?"

Holmes shifted uncomfortably and wouldn't look at Victor. He knew better than to make the mistake of insisting about it again, though it was a source of endless puzzlement to him that of the two of them, they were waiting for _Victor_ to be ready, and not him. He also did not wish to reveal just how confused he was. While he was making up his mind, Victor took his hand gently, stood up, and tugged him with him.

"Come with me. I have been making a fuss over nothing, and have managed to make you nervous about something that you have no call to worry on." He linked their fingers together and guided Holmes towards his bedroom without having to apply any force at all.

Victor's bedroom, whilst larger here, was just as untidy as Holmes expected. Notably, there was a considerably nicer, larger easel propped up in the corner, stacks of books all over the place (which largely explained the gaps on the library shelves) and a very comfortable-looking, wide bed with curtains all around it. Considering Victor's love of sensual experience, Holmes was not at all surprised by that, either.

"It was built in the room, and there's no way of getting it out." Victor whispered to his friend when he noticed him contemplating the bed and the window, trying to work out how one had gotten through the other. "My father tells me it used to belong to a Duke. I should prefer to compare you to a King, but this is the best I can do at the moment."

Holmes tried to think of something suitable to say, but nothing came instantly to mind. Victor moved to stand in front of him slowly and calmly.

"I think it might be best to begin by undressing you. May I?"

Nodding dumbly, Holmes watched as Victor's eyes lit up, and he started on shirt buttons with rapt attention. Someone less observant might not have noticed the faint trembling in his fingers, but to Holmes, he might as well have been shaking all over. "It's all right, Victor. I've wanted this for months."

Victor took a deep breath and steadied himself a little. "I know, I _know_. But this feels a little like... I don't know. Like I'm the unworthy cad taking your first time away from you?"

"You are not taking anything. You are _giving_ me something. Your experience, and expertise, and the one thing I want more than anything else," smiling at Victor's raised eyebrow, Holmes continued, "your undivided attention."

Heaving a sigh, Victor went back to his task with renewed confidence. "If I do anything you don't like – anything at all, you must tell me straight away, and I'll stop, and I won't blame you at all for it. All right?"

"Do you think it's right that you are more nervous over this than I am? What is the worst possible thing that could happen? You accidentally do me some small injury. One of us embarrasses ourselves in some way? And what of it? You and I are so far past social norms that we have entirely forgotten what they look like." Holmes smiled gently.

"You are, as always, quite correct. I should perhaps resent you for it, but given that I can no longer raise any objection, I shall have to reward you properly." Victor tugged Holmes' shirt out of his trousers, undid the final button, and backed him towards the bed, encouraging him to sit when they reached it. He nudged Holmes' knees apart as far as they would comfortably go and knelt between them, hands on his thighs.

Watching all this with great interest, Holmes was becoming increasingly aware of the discomfort caused by the pressure of his trousers. Apparently, Victor had noticed this as well, because he was currently undoing his flies carefully. He tugged at the waist of Holmes' trousers, and Holmes lifted his hips to allow him to pull them, and his drawers off. It was a slightly strange sensation, sitting there completely naked when Victor was still almost fully dressed.

Victor seemed not to notice, or perhaps _mind_ this strange disparity. He was rather too busy staring straight ahead. Holmes shifted uncomfortably. "Is it still... normal?"

"You're perfect," Victor pressed a kiss to Holmes' inner thigh, "so perfect." He kissed further along until he could push his nose briefly into the crease between thigh and hip, before looking up and smiling at his friend, who was flushed and panting softly already. He kissed his stomach gently to earn a strangled gasp.

"I'm going to do something you should enjoy. I'm telling you this, because I'm hoping you'll enjoy it a lot, which might come as a bit of a surprise for you. I want you to let your body react naturally – don't hold back, and don't be ashamed. Can you do that for me?"

Holmes nodded, and swallowed thickly, unable to to articulate his answer but hoping Victor would accept the gesture. Victor grinned and took a firm hold of Holmes' hips, which was the last warning he got before he was sucked fully into the other man's mouth. One hand that had been gripping the side of the mattress darted seemingly of it's own accord to Victor's shoulder, perhaps out of the instinct to try and steer the other man, as useless as that would be. When Victor looked up his eyes were dancing, and Holmes thought he'd never seen him look quite so smug, as incongruous as it was.

Victor sucked sharply, and Holmes' grip on his shoulder tightened. He made a completely new noise, but it was definitely a good one, and Victor sucked again more gently. Holmes moaned softly this time. He assumed, then, that Victor was laughing around him, and thought dimly that he should try to get him to repeat that in the future. He suspected that it wasn't _meant_ to feel quite this urgent, but he remembered what Victor had said about just letting his body do what it wanted to, and tilted his hips minutely, painfully aware that this was all going to be over in a matter of seconds but willing to trust that Victor knew what he was doing.

Shutting his eyes tightly, he moved his other hand to Victor's shoulder and gripped tightly – far too tightly, but Victor didn't complain – and felt that _something_ between his stomach and his thighs tighten and tighten and tighten until _finally_ he caught himself crying out softly, and the next thing he was aware of was looking up at the ceiling, and something wet (he was assuming, or rather _hoping_, Victor's tongue) lapping at him gently. He couldn't be bothered moving to look, so waited patiently until it stopped, and Victor's smiling face appeared in front of him (on top of him, but this was not the moment for pedantry). A light pressure and the brush of cloth against his hips told him that Victor was still dressed, so he probably didn't lose more than a few seconds. That was reassuring.

"Enjoy that?" Victor grinned, looking terribly smug, but he had certainly earned the right to be.

"I love you." Holmes replied, though he had meant to say 'yes', he decided that was a suitable alternative and smiled.

"I've heard that before for doing that, you know," Victor leaned in close, "but this is the first time I've believed it." He leaned down to kiss Holmes' neck softly. Holmes tried to pull him up for a proper kiss, but while he started out with lips parted and eager, Victor kept his pursed. Instantly, Holmes thought that he had done something wrong after all.

"I'm sorry, Victor. I was just trying to follow your instructions." Holmes looked away from his friend, cheeks burning.

"Sorry..?" Victor began, and then realised his own mistake. "Oh, no, Sherlock. I'm not not kissing you because you did anything wrong – I just don't think you'll like the taste."

"Like the taste of- oh. Oh, I see," he looked back at Victor, "but if it doesn't bother you..."

"I am used to it. You are not." He stood up and padded over to a table at the side of the room, poured a glass of water and swirled it around his mouth. Holmes noticed at that point that Victor's need had not been seen to, and wondered if he should offer to return the favour.

"Victor, it would appear that I have been terribly selfish," Holmes began nervously, "I can't promise to possess your skill, but I wouldn't mind _trying_ to reciprocate."

Victor came back over an laid down on the bed next to Holmes with a contented sigh. "I hate to tell you this, but it is I who have been terribly selfish," he smiled slowly at Holmes' incomprehension, "I knew you wouldn't last long. I didn't expect you to, but I'm afraid I need you to be a little less desperate for what _I_ want. You'll recover quickly enough, and I don't mind waiting while that happens." He traced a tickling finger over his friend's naked thigh. "Have a rest, catch your breath, and we'll do this again in a few minutes."

Holmes grinned brightly, and nodded, leaning in happily for the kiss he'd wanted earlier.


End file.
